Counter Guardian Arturia @ Tower of Animus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
no_longer_a_king) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-01-06 06:41 pm
no_longer_a_king) wrote in towerofanimus2013-01-06 06:41 pm
ITP: Meandering
Characters: Arturia Pendragon [AU5] and anyone
Setting: Dorms, Floor One, Floor Twenty-threefour, and Floor Thirty-eight.
Format: Prose
Summary: Arturia wakes up in the tower after what must be countless centuries of forced combat.... and has no idea what to do with herself!
Warnings: DEATH! WOOHOO! In the first post, too! \o/
[Room 03-17]
It was with a jolt and a gasp that she finally sat up, hand going to her neck only to find the collar there but all the same she could move. She could move. She could breathe.
"W-what?"
She could speak.
What was this place? Yet another battlefield in which she'd be made to slaughter guilty and innocent alike endlessly, an angel of death garbed in blood-stained white for all to see? It made no sense to her. None whatsoever. She glanced around the room for any sign of what she was meant to do but only found other beds like the one she laid on and a trunk much like the one at the foot of her bed. Her eyes finally fell on the notes and she snatched them up, reading them thoroughly, her heart squeezing with every moment.
The world was.... gone? She was free? Free from her punishment?
Arturia had no idea how to feel about this. On the one hand even she could be grateful of the reprieve, but on the other hand it had been at the cost of who knows how many lives? And what if the world itself was still in tact? Would she go right back to fighting endlessly as soon as she returned? Questions. So many questions she didn't understand, but she balled up her notes and placed them in the trashcan. With barely a thought she summoned what was now her normal attire, sans the collar. Apparently the collar placed on her here superseded it. No matter. It wasn't like she was really attached to anything beyond her sword at this point.
And so Arturia headed out of her dorm, wanting to know just where she'd wound up and where to go from here.
[Floor One]
If there was one indulgence she would allow herself, it was food. Naturally when she'd read she'd have to eat some oatmeal before she could eat anything else she'd been fine with it.
There wasn't much of a spread in the cafeteria, simply eggs for breakfast, and once she was done with her oatmeal she tore into them like a hyena. It wasn't very kingly or knightly or even as lady-like as her appearance would suggest, but it was something. They were not the best made nor would it have been memorable otherwise--but it was food! Real food! And a delicious smell beyond the smell of blood and steal she never knew she'd grow tired of.
Part of her mind went back to those meals in Fuyuki, how warm the house had been, how Shirou had insisted she eat at the table with everyone else despite her and Rin's protests.
How delicious the meals had been, cooked with a care and pride not common in her time. Arturia found her appetite gone, the food tasting like ash, but not wanting to waste it, she forced herself to finish, though she no longer looks happy about it.
[Floor Twenty-Two to Floor Twenty-Four]
Wait, had she lost count of the floors? Arturia thought back for a moment. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, she could have sworn she just went past the twenty-third floor to explore, so why could she not remember it. She turned on the stairs to check again. She needed to be thorough in creating a mental map of this place and the dangers it could present.
Except she bypassed it again! What was wrong with her? Had she been controlled for so long her senses were completely dull?! With a frustrated sigh she turned again to go up the stairs--
--and again she missed the floor entirely! And again! Again again again she kept missing it. This tower would not make a fool of her! She turned yet again, this time counting the number of stairs to make sure she didn't miss the floor, a determined look on her face, and unaware of how her body was slowly becoming vaguely transparent time she passed the twenty-third floor.
[Floor Thirty-Eight]
Her body didn't ache after climbing so many stairs like a normal person would, but Arturia knew there was only so much time in the day. The elevator would be a few flights up and then she could see about returning to her dorm to become further acquainted with her roommates. But for now this room seemed as good enough place as any to rest and gather her thoughts.
The elation of being able to move freely, to speak freely, to make her own choices was starting to lose its novelty. Arturia sank into a bean bag chair, for once in her now-long life not caring how dignified she looked in doing so. If the world had, indeed, ended and she had, somehow, been saved, it left one question on her mind that she couldn't hold back any longer. For so long everything had been clear before her, her path marked with a vivid certainty she could not take her eyes from.
Only now it was gone. Gone not just in the world itself being gone, but her Kingdom, her friends, every last person had been lost to her by coming here; destroyed by her own hand. For so long she had believed there was no escaping her fate, her punishment, and now here she was, completely and utterly alone and lost.
"What do I do now?" she asked aloud both for the novelty and because some part of her mind was beginning to settle into a sort of malaise of "who cares"?
Setting: Dorms, Floor One, Floor Twenty-
Format: Prose
Summary: Arturia wakes up in the tower after what must be countless centuries of forced combat.... and has no idea what to do with herself!
Warnings: DEATH! WOOHOO! In the first post, too! \o/
[Room 03-17]
It was with a jolt and a gasp that she finally sat up, hand going to her neck only to find the collar there but all the same she could move. She could move. She could breathe.
"W-what?"
She could speak.
What was this place? Yet another battlefield in which she'd be made to slaughter guilty and innocent alike endlessly, an angel of death garbed in blood-stained white for all to see? It made no sense to her. None whatsoever. She glanced around the room for any sign of what she was meant to do but only found other beds like the one she laid on and a trunk much like the one at the foot of her bed. Her eyes finally fell on the notes and she snatched them up, reading them thoroughly, her heart squeezing with every moment.
The world was.... gone? She was free? Free from her punishment?
Arturia had no idea how to feel about this. On the one hand even she could be grateful of the reprieve, but on the other hand it had been at the cost of who knows how many lives? And what if the world itself was still in tact? Would she go right back to fighting endlessly as soon as she returned? Questions. So many questions she didn't understand, but she balled up her notes and placed them in the trashcan. With barely a thought she summoned what was now her normal attire, sans the collar. Apparently the collar placed on her here superseded it. No matter. It wasn't like she was really attached to anything beyond her sword at this point.
And so Arturia headed out of her dorm, wanting to know just where she'd wound up and where to go from here.
[Floor One]
If there was one indulgence she would allow herself, it was food. Naturally when she'd read she'd have to eat some oatmeal before she could eat anything else she'd been fine with it.
There wasn't much of a spread in the cafeteria, simply eggs for breakfast, and once she was done with her oatmeal she tore into them like a hyena. It wasn't very kingly or knightly or even as lady-like as her appearance would suggest, but it was something. They were not the best made nor would it have been memorable otherwise--but it was food! Real food! And a delicious smell beyond the smell of blood and steal she never knew she'd grow tired of.
Part of her mind went back to those meals in Fuyuki, how warm the house had been, how Shirou had insisted she eat at the table with everyone else despite her and Rin's protests.
How delicious the meals had been, cooked with a care and pride not common in her time. Arturia found her appetite gone, the food tasting like ash, but not wanting to waste it, she forced herself to finish, though she no longer looks happy about it.
[Floor Twenty-Two to Floor Twenty-Four]
Wait, had she lost count of the floors? Arturia thought back for a moment. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, she could have sworn she just went past the twenty-third floor to explore, so why could she not remember it. She turned on the stairs to check again. She needed to be thorough in creating a mental map of this place and the dangers it could present.
Except she bypassed it again! What was wrong with her? Had she been controlled for so long her senses were completely dull?! With a frustrated sigh she turned again to go up the stairs--
--and again she missed the floor entirely! And again! Again again again she kept missing it. This tower would not make a fool of her! She turned yet again, this time counting the number of stairs to make sure she didn't miss the floor, a determined look on her face, and unaware of how her body was slowly becoming vaguely transparent time she passed the twenty-third floor.
[Floor Thirty-Eight]
Her body didn't ache after climbing so many stairs like a normal person would, but Arturia knew there was only so much time in the day. The elevator would be a few flights up and then she could see about returning to her dorm to become further acquainted with her roommates. But for now this room seemed as good enough place as any to rest and gather her thoughts.
The elation of being able to move freely, to speak freely, to make her own choices was starting to lose its novelty. Arturia sank into a bean bag chair, for once in her now-long life not caring how dignified she looked in doing so. If the world had, indeed, ended and she had, somehow, been saved, it left one question on her mind that she couldn't hold back any longer. For so long everything had been clear before her, her path marked with a vivid certainty she could not take her eyes from.
Only now it was gone. Gone not just in the world itself being gone, but her Kingdom, her friends, every last person had been lost to her by coming here; destroyed by her own hand. For so long she had believed there was no escaping her fate, her punishment, and now here she was, completely and utterly alone and lost.
"What do I do now?" she asked aloud both for the novelty and because some part of her mind was beginning to settle into a sort of malaise of "who cares"?
no subject
"I swear, if nothing else, I did not know what my Master intended to do. I simply thought he was indulging my wish to face you in fair combat while we had a chance, nothing more. If I had known I would not have allowed it to happen."
A pause as she thought of the other her. "And I do not know if she would be forgiving, but I doubt she would hate you for what you said. You had every right to say what you did. For all you knew, Lancer, I had been a part of that deception against you." He'd been right about the Grail at any rate.
no subject
Lancer looks up at her, a pleading look in his eyes, "Please believe when I say I didn't mean those things! I couldn't control myself. It was like something else was using my voice and yet I know it was me because sometimes I still feel it. Here." He folds his hand over the spot where his spear had pierced his heart, "It's small, but it's still there. That flame of hatred, anger...and pain."
no subject
Maybe that was her crime. Maybe it was creating pain in all those she held dear.
"And don't worry. You are one of the most honorable men I have ever met. Everyone makes mistakes and you have given me no reason to doubt your word." No, if anything, she was the dirty one, the unworthy one, the one who couldn't be trusted. Diarmuid had been willing to cast everything aside for both honor and love and she?
She had burnt her kingdom down due to a childish wish and no amount of words could ever take that back. What was a few words made out of anger compared to that?
Arturia reached out, placing her hand over his and fought down the urge to escape, to run. No, the last thing Diarmuid needed was her running away from him when he was talking about the darker side of him.
"You did nothing wrong, I promise. Anyone in your position would have been just as angry as you had been."
no subject
His eyes turn fearful as a sudden thought crosses his mind, "What if it turns on them someday? On someone I'm suppose to protect? I-I could not live with that!"
Lancer pulls away from her and stands, taking a few steps to distance himself from her. He then takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before speaking again, "Forgive me, Arturia. I shouldn't be bothering you with all of this. You have given me your forgiveness. It's so much more than I deserve. I have no right to ask for more. We should be focusing on you. You say you are still newly arrived. Tell me, what can I help you with? I will do anything you ask."
no subject
Diarmuid feared the darkness inside him? Inside him? The thought of it was laughable to Arturia, even if she understood he was only human. At least he was aware of himself enough to keep an eye out before he hurt someone he cared for. He didn't have his wife's blood on his hands, did he?
"I don't mind hearing your thoughts. You are and always have been my brother in arms even as we fought against one another in the Fourth Grail War. Believe me when I say that I would trust you with my life and the lives of those I hold dear if necessary."
Especially to protect them from herself.
"If anything, I now owe you my life as you have saved me from one of this tower's pitfalls. My forgiveness is nothing compared to that. As to what you could help me with.... I apologize, but I don't yet know. I was trying to do as you had done and find my way through this place when I got caught in that trap. I must be more mindful of such things in the future. It dug into my need to map out every inch of this tower and insulted my pride by making me think I kept passing that floor without noticing."
no subject
"Thank you. I know you probably feel I don't need to say that, but I will say it anyway. I don't think I can ever express to you how much of a honor it is that you are willing to help me like this." A smile crosses his face, "It might not be much, but if you would like I can show you what I have mapped out of the tower. One of the things that was in my trunk was a large sketch book. I'm not exactly sure why it was there, but I have been taking advantage of it and recording a good many things so that I don't accidentally forget something with all the new information I've been receiving. I have notes on most of the tower floors now between visiting them myself and being told about them by others."
Once he stops speaking, Lancer looks a little more closely at her. Now that his mind is clear of his own worries, he's starting to notice little things that just seem...off...about her. And what sticks out the most is that her eyes don't seem to have that same light in them as they used to.
"A lot of time has passed for you since the 4th War, hasn't it?" Lancer's voice and expression soften. "And something has happened. Something that has lessened your ability to dream..."
no subject
Arturia had been about to when her eyes passed over the mole under his eye and a warm feeling began to bloom in her chest. One where she knew she felt safe, at peace, one where she felt as if he would never judge her for anything.
In fact, she felt like she could tell him any and everything about her, any secret and he would listen, when it hit her like a firetruck crashing headlong into a witch burning just what was going on and why that was so wrong. In an instant she was on her feet, backing away from him, eyes wide because she could not allow herself to feel that way for Lancer of all people. Not with how many women she knew would have tried to force herself upon him and, more importantly, not with how she had ended the life of the last person she thought she had been in love with. It would do nothing but hurt him, betray everything she had found refreshing about their camaraderie.
"I need to go."
That was all she said before she turned and ran, ran from the spell of his face. Arturia had long ago lost her belief in wishes but now she wished with every fiber of her damned being the next time she ran into him her will would not be so weak she would be susceptible to the charm he could not help again.
no subject
"No," The word is barely a whisper as Lancer suddenly realizes why. All the color leaves his face as his hand unconscious comes up and rubs the spot under his eye.
His curse. It's active again.
It takes only moments, mere fractions of time, for Lancer to cover the distance between the floor they had met on and the floor that houses the safety of his room. Only once he has arrived there and collapsed onto his bed, does he let his brain start working again.
He has spent the first few days here with no problem. None of the woman he has run into showed any signs of being troubled by his curse and he has spoken to both magical and normal women alike.
Why is it starting to affect people now?
And why, of all the women in the tower, did it have to pick Arturia as its first victim?
Figured it was easier to do this here to consolidate it.
Her body ached to see him again. It actually distressed her because she couldn't tell if this was her own desire to see him or the curse and she refused to take chances. Yet he of all people deserved an explanation for an outburst like hers and so she began to write:
Lancer,
I apologize for my outburst, but it appears your curse is beginning to get its hooks into me. I know how you do not like women forcing themselves upon you and need to be certain I can control myself before we speak again. Curse or no curse, I respect you as a knight first and foremost and refuse to allow myself to succumb to its effects. If this curse has truly made me romantically inclined toward you, then I must respect your boundaries above all else.
I hope you will forgive me for running as I had in the stairwell. Once I am certain of my own control I would gladly sit with you and discuss the notes you have made on this tower. I plan on gathering my own. Perhaps when the time comes we will be able to give one another incites onto what dangers this Tower holds.
Until then,
Arturia
Her hand hovered for a moment over writing 'Pendragon' before she gave up and left it out. Then she folded up the letter, searched for Diarmuid's room, and left it on his bed when she was certain he was out.
That's just fine with me! :-)
After reading her letter over, he is more convinced than ever that his curse, for whatever reason, had become active for a short time, but then had gone inactive again. Though it makes no sense, he really can't explain what is going on any better than that. Lancer really wants a chance to talk to her about all of this face to face, but he knows that would be a bad idea and so he follows her lead and sits down to write a reply of his own.
Saber,
There is no need for you to ask forgiveness of me. Indeed, it should be me who is asking forgiveness of you. I have no idea why my curse suddenly awakened when it did. You are the first that it has affected since I arrived here and it has affected no one else since then. I am truly perplexed as to why this is and why it picked you of all people to activate on.
Take all of the time you need to sort how you feel out. I wish there was something I could do to help, but we both know that my presence would only make things harder for you. I can only hope that the effects will last for as short a time as the activation did.
You will find that I've attached a shortened version of my notes on the tower floors to this. The list has only a small portion of the notes I've gathered, but it should be enough to let you explore what is left of the floors without risk of another incident like the one we met during. Hopefully, being able to go out and explore the floors with less worry will give you something to ease your mind while you work through everything. Once things have returned to normal, we can meet to go over our notes. It's entirely possible you will find something that I did not.
Until then, dear King of Knights, please keep yourself safe,
Diarmuid
Once he is sure he's said all the wants to, he folds the letter--his notes on the tower carefully stuck inside--and leaves it on the bed in her room.
Awesome
She'd even turned around the few times she'd seen him coming down the steps of the tower and hidden on the nearest available floor. It hurt her pride to have to do such a thing, but she was determined to stay away until she was sure she could control herself.
Unfortunately, self control when paired with temptation was the very last thing she trusted herself on.
Arturia opened the letter and then looked over Lancer's notes. Once done, she decided to pen another.
Lancer,
It is strange, how this tower seems to affect us. Someone I ran into mentioned that sometimes people's various magecraft and curses come and go. It would explain why my magic resistance did not shield me at the time your curse activated. Do not blame yourself for this as it appears to be unfortunate luck on both our parts.
The notes you have provided will be very helpful. As expected, your skill for observation and gathering information on the terrain is exceptional. I shall let you know the results of further exploration the moment I am able.
Yours,
Arturia
She had to fight to keep from writing a heart after her name. Yes, she'd observed some girls in the modern era did such a thing and, yes, she thought the gesture cute and thought Diarmuid would find it cute. However, the last thing she wanted was for Diarmuid to think of her as cute. The man had a wife! Had given up everything for his wife! How could she trespass on that?
Luckily she managed to conquer the urge and folded the letter up. When she was sure he was out of his room, she placed the note on his bed again and then, his notes in hand, continued her exploration.
Squeek! Her pain should not be this cute! LOL!
While he's happy to see her keeping in contact with him, Lancer is also upset that this is how they have to do it. That his curse is keeping them from being able to meet and speak face to face like knights properly should.
Why does fate have to keep doing this to them?
He sighs and sits on the bed to read the letter. It holds both good news and bad despite how short it is. The good news--they now have a pretty good explanation as to why the curse had affected her as it had. The bad news--it is complex and really nothing they can hope to control. After a moment of thought, he grabs his sketchbook and starts a response.
Saber,
I applaud your detective work. Even if it doesn't really help us fix things, at least now we know why you were affected they way you were. I just wish the solution had also included a way to free you from it.
I don't like the idea that my curse could activate at any time or place. How am I suppose to go out and help others when I could just end up enslaving them instead? When nothing happened for so long, I really thought that perhaps I was finally free and would be able to help others without worry. Now I am worse off than before...
...Never mind. I didn't let it stop me then and I cannot let it do so now. There are too many people who can benefit from my skills for me to hide in my room all the time just because my curse might activate.
I'm glad that my notes are proving helpful to you. Hopefully, since my curse was only active for a short time, its effects on you will soon pass and we will be able to meet to discuss the things you have found out. I greatly look forward to it.
Remain well My King,
Diarmuid
Lancer reads the letter over a few times before folding it. After a moment, though, he pauses and instead of just simply folding it in threes, puts to work a trick Oisin taught him and folds it so it resembles a flower. Perhaps the trick folding will make her smile and lighten the burden of the curse even just a little bit.
As before, he waits until she is out of her room and then leaves the letter sitting on her pillow.
It's more her pride taking a hit at this point.
His king. He called her his king. That choked her up a bit and she knew that if this curse did not leave her be in the next few days she would have to sit down and tell him the truth of her situation. It wasn't something she could explain in a letter, especially if she wanted to at least attempt to be the King of Knights Diarmuid saw her as.
She carefully refolded his note into the flower. It took some doing as she never really bothered with trick folding, but she managed. The letter wasn't as beautiful as when she found it, but it would be a nice keepsake.
Diarmuid,
My situation aside, don't worry too much about it. As you said you helped people regardless of your curse and you are a good man who never took advantage of the women your curse affected. At least here you know not every woman will fall under its thrall
like IShe quickly scratched out "like I am" so it'd be illegible. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how badly it was affecting her mind. That was the hardest part about this curse: knowing it was affecting even her thoughts. It was hard for her to figure out if her praise for Lancer was coming from her or the curse and her only solace was that she knew her respect for him was genuine. That's why she kept her distance. The last thing either of them wanted was her acting like a fool in front of him.
Thank you for the flower. I had trouble getting it back into the flower shape. Perhaps when we speak again you could show me how to do it? I think I'm getting a better handle on the curse. If I turn out to be wrong I have complete faith in you to stop me before I do anything rash. You are a good man Diarmuid. Curse or no, I have always believed that.
Attached to this letter are some notes I have taken I did not see on yours. I apologize if they overlap with any of yours that I have not yet seen, but I thought it best to share.
Yours,
Arturia
And so she left it on his bed as had become custom for them to do.
And he's not heeeelping.....
Saber,
It fills me with happiness to know that the flower was able to ease your pain somewhat and make you smile. It was a trick taught to me by an old friend, and I would be glad to show you how it's done. It's really quite simple and there are several variations. Oisin was a bard of the highest quality and such, very talented with his fingers.
I'm afraid, though, I cannot so easily fulfill your other request. Just forgetting what you are going through because of me is not something I can do. While I promise I will not let my worries of it affecting others slow me down, I will continue to regret that you have been hurt because of it.
I really do hope, someday, there will be something I can do to make this up to you.
The notes you have given me will take some time to go over, but I have already noticed a bothersome trend in one. It seems floor 47 is even more dangerous than I feared. The monster I fought there was a very dangerous one, but it was also at night. You seem to have encountered very dangerous ones there as well, but during the day. It may be that no matter the time, the monsters on that floor are always of the most dangerous sort.
This is most disturbing because, aside from the graveyard, that floor is the closest to the dorms. I wonder if we can place some kind of warning on the entrances to that room?
Until we can meet again, My King,
Diarmuid
There is no pause to consider if he is going to fold the letter normally. The only pause comes as he decides which flower he should fold it into this time. Not long later, a small, white rose-shaped letter sits on Saber's pillow.
Lancer just wishes he could have found a way to tint the paper's coloring even just slightly to help the look along.
Not at aaall. And it doesn't help politeness + love spell is keeping her from telling him to stop it
Perhaps, but it seems like most people use the elevator in the dorms to get around since the floors themselves are dangerous. Some are almost impossible to traverse without becoming endangered. Floor Thirty, for example. The floor is constantly filled with monsters and the staircase is in a constant state of disrepair. If it's possible, I was thinking of enlisting a few warriors among the population to fend off the monsters so some carpenters could repair the stair case and it'd be safer to traverse.
Floor seventeen, however, is far more disturbing. No matter how you try to clean it, the handprints return and you can still hear the sounds of the people who it belonged to being tortured. I'll need to ask around for someone better at detecting mana than I, but I would feel better if I knew for a fact it was an illusion and not something more sinister.
Do not fret about me. I am not hurt. I simply don't trust myself at the moment. You are a kind and noble man, Diarmuid, and I have no doubt many a lady would have fallen for you even without your curse. You are already making it up to me by reaching out to me despite my desire to stay away while also respecting it. A lesser man would have followed me and demanded answers, quite possibly even taken advantage of my condition while I was still in shock and could not yet think properly. It gladdens my heart every day it is your thrall I fell under and not that of someone wicked or crass.
In other words: just be you, dear Diarmuid. Thrall or no, I will forever consider you a friend.
Sincerely,
Arturia
no subject
Thrall. It's not the first time that people have used that word to describe what he's done to them--to their loved ones.
Thrall. He keeps hearing the word over in his head. In their voices. In her voice. And it upsets him so that he can't bring himself to write about his feelings at first. Instead, he focuses on what she's written about the tower and its monsters. Even so, she might notice a different tone to his letter this time--something almost defeated and definitely unsure.
My King,
You are probably right. I suppose I worry because I've learned that one of my roommates has a fear of elevators as a result of something that happened to him as a child and I can't imagine he is the only one in the tower to have such a fear. He is also one of those who will never be able to be a fighter like you or me. I worry for his safety every time he leaves the room and has to take the stairs down to places like the cafeteria and library.
I would be glad to try and help you with the stairs on floor 30, but I am afraid that our efforts might be useless. While I haven't tried myself, I have heard rumors of people trying to fix things like the stairs or even rooms themselves only to have the things revert to their previous state shortly thereafter. If the administrators want the stairs that way, we might not be able to do anything to change that.
I believe floor 17 to be similar. Only its less physically damaging and more mentally so. They are just a few of the cruel tests that so fill this place.
I-- The words are a little smudged here for some reason. --am glad that me keeping my distance is helping in at least some small way. I had hoped that your-- Here is another set of smudges. --enslavement might have been over by now. I do not know what else to do.
My apologies,
Your Knight
The letter isn't folded any special way this time. He is too upset to focus on it. Instead, it's just left sitting in its usual spot with him hoping that any signs of his tears would have dried by the time she finds it.
no subject
If it would ease his heart then.... then maybe....
I think I have enough control of myself now I could see you if it will ease your mind. I will be waiting on the thirty-eighth floor this afternoon until sunset. If you still believe it to be dangerous or are uncomfortable I will not be hurt. I promise.
--Arturia
She left it on his pillow again and hoped in prayed that him seeing she wasn't suffering would ease his mind. Part of her had wanted to tell him to meet her in her room, but it was too intimate a setting given their circumstances and she had to leave him time to leave a letter if he chose to instead.
But she couldn't let him suffer and how could she know if it was true if she didn't at least try?
no subject
But part of Lancer just can't believe that easily. It's that part of him that digs into his trunk and pulls out the unfamiliar clothes he noticed were in there before but has, until now, ignored. They are things he knows he never owned. The best he can guess from the tags they still have on them is that Sola-Ui had bought them for him at some point, but things in the war had happened so quickly--gone bad so fast--that she had never had the chance to give them to him.
It's a plain white dress shirt, black slacks and matching belt and shoes. Surely, if Arturia is still under the curse's sway, these clothes will be less...tempting...than his normal close-fitting armor will be.
And so, Lancer arrives on floor 38 an hour or so before sunset looking nervous and slightly uncomfortable in his new outfit. The clothes fit well, but it's a fit he's not familiar with.
"I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting too long. I..." He trails off unable to finish his thought without knowing if this was a very good idea or a tremendously stupid one.
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The thought of seeing Diarmuid in person had her heart racing for a number of reasons ranging from the thought of what if she couldn't control herself to the knowledge that she would most likely wind up telling him what had happened to her. Cursed or not, it was not something she could hide from him and every time he called her his king or himself as her loyal knight it sent a stab of pain through her heart. King Arthur no longer existed: all that was left was Arturia.
That aside, she didn't even look him over when he came beyond noting the difference in clothing. Arturia had never been one to care for the looks of a person and she was pleased to know it carried over even to being in thrall. No, the thing that appealed to her about Diarmuid had been his character and she thanked her stars every day her respect and friendship for him kept her from making a fool of herself.
"It is all right. Truth be told, I was afraid you would be too uncomfortable with coming. Please, sit, we have much to discuss," she said, indicating the chair she'd placed by her at the table. It was close to her, yes, but it kept some distance between the two of them. Arturia would never admit she'd spent an hour agonizing over where to place it so he wouldn't take it the wrong way or think she intended something untoward.
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"You seem to be doing much better now. Has it gone then or just lessened?" He hopes that her answer is the former, but the latter will be acceptable too because that means it will eventually fade entirely. It will just take longer.
"I almost didn't come because I was worried about making things worse, but hiding isn't our style, is it? I'm sorry if my last letter upset you more than the others. This whole situation has been a nightmare for me. I was so happy when you resisted its charms during the war. To have it effect you here after all of that..." Lancer stops talking and spreads his hands in a helpless motion. He's not really sure how to explain just how badly it made him feel. He just hopes she will understand.
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"It's all right. If nothing else, staying away would likely not help," she admitted, tucking some hair behind her ear, "Truthfully I do not know if the curse has lessened, but I feel as if I would be better able to control myself now and it would be a dishonor to hide from you more than necessary."
She sighed, shifting in her seat so she could place her notes about the Tower on the table.
"Your letter only upset me because I do not wish to cause you distress, curse or no. Please, all I ask is that you trust me to keep myself in check and do not blame yourseld. Of the two of us, you are the one who is the most at risk as I know you would not take advantage of this state."
Because she was scared of what she might do to him if she gave in to the curse. Shirou had loved her and she'd wound up betraying him. All it had taken was one single instant of temptation and in that instant she had done the unspeakable to the one person she thought she had fallen in love with.
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"I have always believed there is some measure of will involved when it comes to resisting my curse. It's just that most women I have run into don't want to take the time necessary to gather that will. I know it can be done. You are a perfect example. Not everyone will be like..."
His voice drops off as a memory stirs at the back of his mind. He pushes it away, though. Already once during his stay here that memory has been drug to the surface and it's not one he wants to deal with again. Not so soon and not while there are more important things going on.
He would actually rather remember how things ended because of Sola-Ui's infatuation with him than how things ended with hers...
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"Let us speak of better things since there is only so much we can discuss our circumstances. As I promised, I brought notes on what information I've gathered about the Tower so far."
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"Let me see what you have gathered so far. I know you pointed out a few floors in one of your letters that particularly worry you. Have you found any others you would like to add to that list? While most of the floors are dangerous in their own ways, those that worry even trained warriors like us should be what we focus on."